


Melancholia

by Astrapod



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ...unfortunately, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon Compliant, Ficlet, Gen, Kinda, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-25 06:21:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30084801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Astrapod/pseuds/Astrapod
Summary: The wind still blows and the world keeps turning. Somehow.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester





	Melancholia

**Author's Note:**

> I started this as soon as 15x18 aired, stopped writing after the finale because uh heck that. But I just now decided to add a few more words and post this as a melancholy little prose poem thing.

The wind blows.

His stomach growls.

Research is as endless, as tiring as it’s always been. 

He prays. Every day. 

  
  


The wind still blows. 

Sam and Eileen go on dates. Like real people. Like free people. 

Because that’s what they are now.

He gets thirsty. He drinks. Sometimes water, sometimes whiskey.

He prays.

Every night. 

Ends in tears. 

  
  


The wind still blows.

And rain falls and the sun shines. 

Turns out Jack was right. He can feel their son everywhere in everything without even trying. 

“Jack, _please._ Please bring him back.”

He doesn’t understand why he can’t have him back.

It hurts. 

Freedom hurts without him. 

  
  


The wind still blows. 

The world keeps turning somehow. Insultingly. Infuriatingly. 

The world should know what it’s lost. 

Dean knows.

He talks to him. Prays.

Sam is moving in with Eileen soon.

  
  


The wind blows a tree over during a nasty storm.

It falls two feet away from Baby and Dean can’t help but feel maybe Jack had a _little_ something to do with it. 

“Thanks for the little miracle, Jack. What would another hurt, huh?”

He looks at property listings. 

The bunker doesn’t feel like home anymore. It feels like being trapped in a memory. 

  
  


The wind is biting and cold when he exhausts his last lead on the Empty. 

Sam worries. 

Says they should work a case together.

So they do. 

  
  


He never finds a home of his own. 

He never rescues the love of his life. 

He never becomes an uncle. 

He never gets to live. 

  
  


The wind blows softly through the cracks in the barn. 

It almost sounds like—

The rustling of wings.


End file.
